One of the most fascinating insights of both modern science and Buddhism, is that what we call “I” doesn’t really exist. Sure, we always feel like one single, solid individual — but we are far from it. There’s just a part of our brain which makes us feel that way.

And our bodies, which always feel like ours, are actually populous ecosystems all by themselves. We can’t even function well without the other beings that live within us.

My personal example: Over a year ago, I discovered probiotics and started taking them — two pills a day, each pill containing billions of intestinal bacteria. My digestive system improved dramatically. Eating at teahouses in Nepal? No problem. I had almost no difficulties in either China or Nepal. Just a few minor incidents (like in Hongcun, where the water comes from little channels running through the town, in which everyone washes clothes and cleans dishes).

Then a couple months ago, I ran out.

Nothing happened at first, but as time went on, I had more and more difficulties. I started having a hard time digesting the spicy food. Until one night I was really sick and kept getting up to go to the toilet… I’ll spare you the details. Let’s just say it was really unpleasant.

The next day, I found an Acidopholus formula at an expensive grocery store in a mall that caters to Westerners. Only a billion or two acidophulus bacteria in every dose, but it did the job. A day later, I was all well and my stomach felt solid and good again.

Now I know that I am not really “I.” My stomach taught me. “I” am one part “Carl” and at least a billion other parts bacteria. If those bacteria are not happy, or aren’t the right kinds of bacteria, then “I” am one miserable creature.

There’s really no “me” in this self here.